


Fate & Perfection

by DarthSuki



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Innocence AU, Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Pet, More like reader is just treated like a pet (aka smol), Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Suggestive Themes, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 06:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: In an alternate universe where Innocence has always been the Lightwarden of Kholusia, he sits upon the throne of Mt. Gulg, waiting for someone he believes to be his promised one to show up. You consider yourself far from that, just another person trying to make ends meet--but once the warden gets a glimpse of you and descends the mountain to steal you away, who are you to try and fight it?





	Fate & Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request made on my FFXIV writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://finalfantasyxivwritings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> For context, this is part of an AU best described by this ask I got on my writing blog: _Au where the reader is getting fucked by Innocence to make a human/sin eater hybrid instead of whatever happened with Vauthry and his family. Just cut them right out!_

You first came upon Innocence when you had wandered too far from a settlement in Kholusia. You had hoped to gather some supplies from a recently-abandoned farm, but instead found yourself discovered by the very Lightwarden responsible for the region’s ongoing plague of light. 

To be confronted by a lesser sin-eater often ended with death, so to be discovered and within the attention of a _Lightwarden_ was no shortage of a fate worse than that. Myths and rumor were the only thing to entertain such a fate, and you thought yourself beyond hope when the angelic creature set his sights upon you. 

You can remember terror sinking into your bones in the but brief moment that your eyes met. There was a light burning within the Lightwarden’s mere gaze, brighter yet than the everglowing sky. You shut your eyes too quick to know if the legends are true about the mere gaze burning you where you stand, with arms curling over your head and body shaking like a leaf as you wait for a swift and painless death. 

Even when several seconds pass coldly by, you feel not even the slightest prick of a blade’s tip to your body. One breath, then two, and finally three pass into your lungs without cease.

It takes a long time before you finally look up, body still shaking with all the strength of a feather against the wind. When you eventually do, you come to realize that the Lightwarden has gotten quite a deal closer to you, rather _terrifyingly_ close. The waning distance only makes more obvious how large he is compared to you, form giving off a constant glow of warmth that washes over you like a thick blanket across your shoulders even through however many layers of clothes you wear.

When the Lightwarden–Innocence, as the entire region knows of his name–speaks, it feels like thunder rolling through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. Fear may keep you still, but it’s the sound of his words that truly freeze you, eyes wide and staring up at the being with shaking limbs.

“ _How beautiful,_ ” he speaks, as if he’s talking to himself more than he is to you. “ _I’ve not yet seen such a breathtaking example of humanity, shining bright even as I sit upon my throne._ ”

You can’t help but shiver when a smirk pulls upon the Lightwarden’s sharp features, cold and bright as if cut from glowing marble.

_“I must have you, little one. I can feel your sweet aether calling to me at last.“_

You aren’t given time to react before you’re suddenly taken into the being’s powerful grip, arms wrapping around you without mercy as one moment you’re shaking upon your feet and the next you’re hugged tight against a body many times your size and strength.

Whether it is the fear or the uselessness of the moment that takes hold, you offer so little of a struggle against the warden, only feeling as he cradles you in one arm with all the ease as one might hold a small babe. Cold and warmth seem to swirl against your skin–one from the metal of the being’s armor, the other from his mere presence. Through proximity alone everything seems brighter than it ever has before–days upon days in your vision all at once, the warden of light living so truly up to namesake in terms of how every inch of his being seems but to wear the light like a cloak.

When you are finally allowed upon your feet again, you’re somewhere else entirely–no longer in the familiar desolate plains of Kholusia. Where you were familiar to withering trees and dusty roads, you are instead surrounded by the marble walls and intricate shapes of gold twisting over edges and pathways like one might expect to see of the inner rooms of a castle.

But that’s when realization takes you, a sudden steal of your breath when your eyes prove what you questioned: the warden’s throne, high upon the top of Mt. Gulg where nobody dared to travel or so much as go near. A place surrounded by nightmares and stories of terror, twisted up with the idea that all who dare seek it would never return.

It’s a cold place, seemingly carved out of the same cold marble that Innocence himself almost looks made of, detailed in lifeless gold that twists in shapes you scarcely recognize. 

And when you at last begin to squirm you realize the inevitable truth: you, atop Innocence’s lap, and he upon the throne that sits overlooking the empty marble kingdom of lifeless white marble.

The being sits with his chin perched on one hand and his gaze as heavy as the mountain itsef; you can’t hope to read the expression on the warden’s face–you never once thought of them as having emotions in the first place.

As you squirm, the grip around your body tightens; never growing painful, but the firmness in the gesture is hardly lost upon you.

 _"Don’t fight what destiny has blessed you with,”_ Innocence but coos, fingertips of metal claws stroking over your belly, as if trying to soothe a panicking animal. _“You should feel honored; no mortal has ever been worthy to look upon my kingdom–oh, but at last I’ve someone to share it with. The one beautiful and perfect enough to bare the young of people who are worthy of inheriting this blighted star.”_

You can hardly understand what the creature speaks about, but you stop trying to struggle against his grip. At least then it loosens, Innocence even deciding to reach his hand up and carefully scratch the tips of his fingers against your scalp, down to the nape of your neck.

 _“I’ve found you at last, my chosen,”_ he purrs, tone truly as if your meeting had been a holy gift. _“You will need not wait for long before I take you into my chambers for your destiny to unfold in blessed rapture at last.”_

His fingers trail down between your shoulder blades, the center of your back.

_“As eager as I know you must be to have captured my attention at last, dear one, I must first allow you the breath to settle yourself first. To forget all those lies told to you by sinful mortals who deserve no inch of this world–how angry you must have been when you heard such filth from their lips.”_

All you can do is shake, confusion and fear and so many other emotions taking hold of your thoughts. Innocence makes a noise of interest when your shaking grows obvious, and strokes a finger down your back again.

 _“You’ll never hear such lies again,”_ he murmurs, voice booming and yet soft, as if genuinely comforting you. _“I’ll soon have you beneath me, and you will forget it all–soon all you will think of is how round you’ll grow with our blessed children, born of both mortal womb and Lightwarden seed. Yes, creatures of glorious perfection, as always intended by the date of this star.”_

He continues to murmur things of similar nature, keeping you in his lap like a pet. Even as you listen to him, as you hear his plans of twisted debauchery that should terrify anyone to wish for death, you cannot help but feel oddly warm.

And as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, you can't help but feel, beside all of the swirling emotions in your chest,

a little bit of contentment in your fate.


End file.
